


Written in Flesh

by Furuba_Fangirl



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale is curious, Canon Compliant, Crowley is a tease, First Orgasm, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Praise Kink, Sexual Fantasy, Smut, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-05 22:48:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20281126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Furuba_Fangirl/pseuds/Furuba_Fangirl
Summary: Crowley joins Aziraphale for his bookshop's grand opening. However things don't go as planned when the demon finds some less than holy books prompting a discussion the angel was not prepared for.OrThe fic where Aziraphale goes from a cinnamon roll to a sinnamon roll ;D





	Written in Flesh

**Author's Note:**

> I have 3 WIPs for 2 different fandoms and instead I’m writing smut involving supernatural beings. Help. ʕ>⌓<｡ʔ Also this is my first fic for this fandom, so hello there fellow sinners.
> 
> P.S. the timeline is a little vague just ‘cause I’m not sure exactly when Aziraphale opened his bookshop but it’s definitely pre- Antichrist.

It was a long-awaited day for the celestial being: the day of his bookshop’s grand opening. As it was such a momentous occasion for him, Aziraphale saw it fit to graciously extend an invitation to Crowley. Demon or not, the angel felt Crowley was perhaps the only being, besides himself, that could truly appreciate his collection. He had briefly considered inviting some of the other angels to the event but realistically he knew they wouldn’t want to participate in such frivolous matters when maintaining God’s plan was always of upmost importance. So, when he saw the fiery-haired demon nonchalantly perusing through the stacks and rows of books, the angel was giddy with excitement, to say the least.

“Crowley, dear boy, I’m glad you could make it,” Aziraphale greets cheerfully.

“Well, I was in the neighborhood,” he retorts matter-of-factly, putting the book he was holding back on the shelf. “Just finished damning a few souls and thought I could swing by.” 

Aziraphale notes the slight smile tugging on the corner of the demon’s lips. “Yes, of course,” he responds bemusedly, wringing his hands together. “Well, since you’re already here, would you like a proper tour of the place?”

Crowley shrugs his shoulder. “I suppose I have time until my next temptation.”

“Great,” the angel chirps excitedly.

The afternoon is spent with the pair going through each section of the bookstore as Aziraphale recites the backstory of how he obtained some of the pieces. Most of the time was also spent with the angel explaining the trials and tribulations he went through to organize his collection until he got it just right. He was vehement that simple alphabetical order, as Crowley suggested, was “out of the question” as there were several factors to consider like the date, author, genre, etc. Other than the occasional comment or question, Crowley allowed his friend to gush about his books and he listened attentively.

After the sun finished setting, Aziraphale realized that the last of the patrons were trickling out. “Oh my, is it that late already?” He looks down at his pocket watch and then apologetically at Crowley. “I do hope I haven’t taken up too much of your time.”

The demon rolls his eyes behind the darkness of his glasses. “I was kidding about needing to be somewhere,” he assures. “Besides, what kind of celebration would it be without some much-needed libations?” _Snap._ Suddenly, he reveals a large scotch decanter with a scarlet bow decorating the neck and hands it over to the surprised angel.

“Crowley… Thank you for such a lovely gift!” The corner of his eyes crinkle from the bright smile he is wearing. “Come! Come,” he ushers excitedly.

The demon follows suit until they reach the back of the store. Aziraphale flicks on the light to reveal a cozy, furnished room with, unsurprisingly, more books. Crowley makes himself comfortable on the couch while Aziraphale grabs a couple of glasses. The angel pours a generous amount of the amber liquid into each vessel and passes one to Crowley. “To new beginnings,” he cheers. Crowley gives him an affirmative nod before taking a gulp.

As the night continues, the two exchange stories about their tasks for heaven and hell. None are particularly exciting but the alcohol sloshing in their systems makes up for it. Crowley grabs the almost-empty decanter, splitting the remainder between them. “All gone,” he slurs.

“Damn,” Aziraphale pouts.

“I thought that was my job,” Crowley quips to which the inebriated angel giggles at. “No need to worry though. I’ll just miracle us up some more.”

The angel shakes his head. “Hold on, I have something that I was saving for a special occasion like this.” He taps his chin pensively with his pointer finger. “That is if I remember where I have placed it. Do give me a moment, Crowley?”

The demon gives him an “okay” sign as the angel scurries off. After a bit, he decides to entertain himself by looking at the rest of Aziraphale’s books. As he scans through the rows, he realizes that these are probably some of his most valuable ones as he notices copies of Shakespeare’s early drafts. He smiles a bit when he sees the books he was able to save during the bombing those years ago. He had no doubts that the angel would take care of them but still finds the sight of them endearing…

Crowley shakes his head as if he is trying to dislodge the nostalgia out of his brain. He saunters toward another shelf, eyes falling on a particularly interesting section. He places his shades over his head to ensure he is seeing properly. “Oh-ho, naughty angel,” he snickers to himself, plucking one from the shelf.

Crowley hears footsteps approaching and quickly stashes it behind his back as he turns to face Aziraphale holding a wine bottle. “You’re in luck, dear boy.” The angel notices the devilish grin spread across Crowley’s angular face.

“Indeed I am,” he smirks. Aziraphale’s pale face pinks with embarrassment as he watches the demon wave his copy of _Kamasutra_ like a fan. “I must say this is not quite what I imagined your ‘private’ collection would contain. Although I can’t say I’m surprised. It’s always the quiet ones,” he winks mischievously.

“I-it’s purely for academic merits,” he defends indignantly, not meeting Crowley’s devious stare.

“Oh, is that right? Well, I guess then you won’t mind me going through the rest of them—“

With a whoosh of air, Aziraphale is snatching the book out of Crowley’s scrawny fingers and blocking the bookshelf with his wings. “There’s no need for that,” he stammers.

Crowley chuckles lowly and pinches the angel’s burning cheek. “There’s no need for you to be so flustered, angel. No shame in having material to help fulfill your more carnal desires,” he suggests with an eyebrow waggle.

Aziraphale’s face turns a cartoonish red as he sputters, “N-no— Truly, I don’t have them for such activities! I just find a certain beauty to such works of literature,” he justifies, tucking away his wings. “Besides, you know angels shouldn’t indulge in such earthly pleasures, much less those… of a corporeal nature.”

The demon tuts at him. “This, coming from the angel who just downed half a bottle of liquor with a demon and nearly lost his head for a French dessert.” He watches Aziraphale lower his head and fidget with his fingers self-consciously. Crowley leans forward placing his hands on either side of Aziraphale’s head to enclose him between himself and the bookshelf.

“Crowley,” he gulps, confused at his sudden proximity.

He hushes him softly as he leers at the angel. “Tell me, Aziraphale… Can you honestly tell me you’ve never been tempted by those books?”

“I—“

“Let me finish… Can you say you’ve never wanted to partake in sins of the flesh, as Heaven would say?” Aziraphale anxiously stirs under Crowley’s intense gaze, feeling as if he’s prey about to be devoured. “You’ve never wanted to feel the warmth of someone’s bare skin against you?” He lifts his hand to drag his index finger along the angel’s flushed cheek to his jawline, leaving an imaginary burning sensation in its path. The angel shudders as Crowley gingerly grabs his chin and rubs his thumb just under his bottom lip. “You’ve never fantasized about the slide of someone’s lips and tongue against the most sensitive areas of your body?” His serpentine tongue teasingly darts out to lick his own lips. As he recoils it back into his mouth, he gets a waft of Aziraphale’s unique scent; a mixture of dusty book pages, fine cologne and the powdery starch that presses his crisp suit. “You’ve never wanted to touch yourself to the mere thought of such lovely images in your head?” His golden eyes pan up from the angel’s parted lips to meet with widened, blue eyes again. “If the answer is no, it’s a pity really.” He leans in to huskily whisper, “You don’t know what you’ve been missing.”

Aziraphale lets out a staggered sigh as the demon’s scotch-laden breath caresses his ear. For a moment, he lets his eyes flutter closed maybe in the hopes that when they open, it’ll all have been a cruel dream. However, when he does open them he is met with the sight of Crowley’s toothy, shit-eating grin. He furrows his eyebrows at the demon, placing his hand on his bony sternum to gently push him away. He turns his face to hide his glassy eyes from Crowley and murmurs, “Then I must disappoint you, dear boy.”

The sudden change in the angel’s demeanor unsettles Crowley so he lowers his arms to rest at his own sides again. As Aziraphale sneaks a glance over, guilt washes over the demon as he realizes he’s brought his friend to near tears. He takes a couple of steps back to allow sufficient space between them. “I see,” he mutters. “Well, I guess I should’ve known better… There’s a reason you’re an angel and I’m a demon, right?” He lowers his shades from his head and pushes them up on the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry if I offended.”

The angel finally turns to face him directly with a weary, yet understanding expression. “I accept your apology.” He walks past Crowley to pick up the wine bottle he dropped on the couch in his haste to grab his incriminating book. “Do you still care to finish this with me?”

Crowley smiles somberly at Aziraphale’s forgiving nature. _He truly is an angel_. “Of course.”

-

After they finish up, Aziraphale walks a staggering Crowley out the door to his Bentley. He tried to convince the demon to stay the night so he didn’t run the risk of getting discorporated on the drive back but he promised he would just miracle himself home. Once Crowley is stowed away in his car, Aziraphale leans down to the passenger side window. “Thank you again for coming, Crowley. It meant a great deal to me.”

“No problem,” he answers flippantly. “See you around, angel,” he waves.

As Aziraphale waves back, Crowley suddenly disappears, car and all. He takes a deep breath of the chill, night air before turning on his heels to return to his book store. After he finishes locking up, he grabs a cup of tea and a book before heading upstairs to his bedroom. He places his items on his nightstand to turn on his reading lamp. The angel miracles himself into a pair of powder blue pajamas and makes himself comfortable in his plush bed; a ritual not necessary for angels but he does so relish in the coziness. After the long day he had, he felt he deserved to relax. At least that was his plan anyway…

However, as he flips through his book he comes to the realization that he’s not really reading but rather simply scanning the inked words. Honestly, he’s not even tasting his drink either, which is a shame because it’s his favorite Breakfast Earl Grey. He wants his mind to focus but it keeps drifting to his interaction with Crowley; the way he was crowding him… the words that were spilling from his mouth.

_Can you say you’ve never wanted to partake in sins of the flesh, as Heaven would say?_

He’d be lying if he said in the 6000 years of human existence, the thought hadn’t crossed his mind before but it’s not like he’s ever acted upon it. Yes, he can admit that he enjoys having earthly pleasures at his disposal but felt he had to draw the line somewhere. Of course, it wasn’t because he was a prude. In fact, he found the act of sex to be quite fascinating but he decided long ago that was one pleasure he would simply admire through written words. A way to remind himself he still had some level of divinity in him.

Damn Crowley for trying to tempt him to cross that line. Damn those golden, lustful eyes that bore into his very essence. Damn that lascivious tongue of his for igniting his blood with a hunger no meal could satiate…

The angel gasps at the throbbing between his legs. He pulls the covers off himself and is met with a tent protruding from his cotton pajama pants. “Oh, dear,” he huffs ashamedly. Curse his corporeal form and its proclivities. He sets his book aside and scrubs his face tiredly in the hopes of just waiting it out.

_You’ve never wanted to touch yourself to the mere thought of such lovely images in your head?_

Lovely images… like the demon’s sharp features, curtained by his beautiful auburn mane. Or like Crowley gently caressing his face with more tenderness than a demon should be capable of. He sighs at the thought of how differently the scenario might have unraveled if he would’ve been bolder. If he had let his defenses down.

_He imagines his shaking hands reaching out to grapple Crowley’s leather jacket, not just to pull him closer but as a way to keep himself grounded. He imagines the smirk on the demon’s face as the angel’s hands dared to roam his lean chest. _

_“That’s it, angel,” he would purr. “What’s one more temptation?” Crowley would tangle his fingers in his white curls tugging his head back to access more of his ivory skin. Aziraphale would only manage to whimper in response, finding himself completely at the mercy of his forked tongue licking a stripe up the column of his neck. This wouldn’t suffice for the demon, he’s sure. He would nip at the sensitive flesh of his pulse point with his sharpened fangs to make the angel squirm in pain and delight._

Aziraphale rakes his trimmed nails along his throat to get some semblance of what it might feel like and he senses goosebumps forming on his skin.

_After marking him up to his heart’s content, Crowley would take some pity on the poor angel that would be shaking with want at this point. He would massage his scalp to soothe the pain of pulling so tightly and adjust his head so that his breath is brushing against Aziraphale’s plush lips. Their lips so close but so unfairly distant at the same time. _

_“Crowley, dear… please,” the angel would exhale with a trembling voice._

_He would coo, “What is it, angel?” Gently cupping his angel’s face with one hand while the other landed on his hip. “Tell me what you want?”_

_Aziraphale’s bottom lip would quiver as he struggled to ask for what he wanted because it would be shameful coming out of his mouth. “Just, please… Kiss me,” he would beg wantonly. “Touch me. Ravage me if you must.”_

_Crowley would smile at him with no trace of arrogance or malice just… contentment. “Gladly.” He would capture the angel’s lip in a gentle kiss and Aziraphale would have to use all his strength to not buckle right then and there. _

The angel closes his eyes as he lifts his fingers to trace his lips, wishing they were the demon’s thin, sinuous lips.

_Knowing Crowley, he wouldn’t maintain the steady pace of the kiss for long. He would become greedy fairly quickly, his tongue prodding the inside of Aziraphale’s mouth, the taste of scotch still prominent on it. The angel would fair no better in self-control as he would happily allow the skillful muscle to draw out small keens from his throat. The demon would also probably get impatient at the layers of clothes preventing him from truly appreciating his angelic form as he would miracle away the articles from the waist up in a snap._

The angel, however, is a bit more patient as he unbuttons his pajama shirt to expose his chest and stomach.

_Aziraphale would gasp at the sudden bareness but Crowley’s warmth would make up for it. The demon’s nimble hands would begin to explore the angel’s upper body, squeezing his pudge and love-handles as he complimented the supple flesh._

He mimics these movements imagining his own hands to be that of the demon’s.

_Crowley would run a hand up to his chest and playfully tweak at a nipple to gauge the angel’s reaction. An almost embarrassing moan would escape from his lips, prompting a wicked smile from the demon as he continued. _

The angel rubs and plucks the sensitive nub with a shaky hand, moaning as he feels arousal beading at the tip of his cock.

_The demon would hoist one of Aziraphale’s plump thighs up so that their hips were flush together. The angel would wrap his arms around Crowley’s neck as he’d begin to rut against him. “Crowley,” he’d whine before bringing him in for a feverous kiss again and tangling his fingers through his locks._

Aziraphale reaches down to palm at his clothed erection, the pressure making his head go fuzzy. “O-oh!” His head lolls back on his pillow as he gives in to this newfound feeling that seems like too much yet not enough. “_Nngh! Ah— _Crowley, more. W-want more,” he pleas.

_“Anything for you, angel.” He’d place a soft peck on his lips before slithering a hand up to the angel’s lips, digits caressing them coaxingly. “But first, open up,” he’d instruct with a mischievous grin._

The angel nods his head and obeys, pushing his own fingers into the warmth of his mouth.

_“Such a good angel,” the demon would praise, three calloused fingers massaging his tongue to slicken them up._

The angel swirls his tongue around each one, the vibration of his humming sending chills through his spine.

_Once Crowley was satisfied, his shiny fingers would find their way down to the hem of his trousers. He’d undo the button and zipper at a tantalizing pace as Aziraphale observes helplessly through lidded eyes. Before diving his hand any further, he would take his time petting the angel’s snowy happy trail. He’d nuzzle his nose against Aziraphale’s blushing cheek and ask in an affectionate voice, “Are you ready, Aziraphale?”_

He swallows thickly, fingers slowly delving under the elastic of his pajama pants. “Yes, dear,” he responds eagerly.

_He’d trail kisses along his jaw until their lips met once more. His hand would dive below the layer of fabric, those wonderfully slick, dexterous fingers wrapping around the girth of his cock. _

As he holds himself in his hand, he can feel the pulsing of his arousal and urgently wants to relieve the ache that’s been building. Aziraphale bites his lip and squeezes his eyes shut as he slowly starts to pump himself. He groans at the contact, unfamiliar with the overwhelming sensitivity of his member.

_“Tell me, angel. Does this feel like how you imagined it? Is this what you craved, all those lonely nights that you wished you had me to accompany you instead of just your books?”_

He rubs his thumb in circles over the head and almost sobs at the feeling. “Y-yes, _ah_! Yes, that feels _sooo_ good,” he moans shamelessly. Aziraphale juts his hips up in desperation as he starts to feel a growing tension radiating from his groin to his lower stomach. “C-Crowley, please don’t stop,” he grits.

_“Of course not, angel. I love seeing you come undone under my touch,” he croons. _

He quickens his movements and with this, a new set of sensations fills the angel’s body. He can feel a tingles lapping up his spine spreading towards his extremities like champagne bubbles tickling every nerve. His breath is quickening and his face feels warm as if he’s trying to cross an invisible finish line. “_Dear,_ I— I think I’m close,” he pants, body trembling.

_“That’s alright, my friend… Just let go. Just surrender yourself to me.”_

He can practically feel the demon biting his earlobe as he says this and that’s all it takes to push the angel over the edge. Champagne bubbles are replaced by powder kegs as a shock wave rips through his body causing every muscle to go taut. His vision blurs, his toes curl, his back bows, and his eyebrows furrow. As he spills into his hand, a broken moan rips from his throat as he calls out Crowley’s name as if he was summoning the Almighty Herself. After the last ripples of pleasure diffuse throughout his body, his heaving chest begins to level and his body begins to go lax again.

_“You did so well, my angel.” One last kiss to his temple._

Aziraphale’s eyes finally flicker open, awakening from his trance. He looks around his empty bedroom remembering that Crowley wasn’t actually there. He glances down to see the mess that he made on himself and pleasure quickly transforms to shame. He miracles the sticky fluid clean and starts to button his pajama shirt up like some sort of common hussy, desperately trying to erase his dirty act. Though he knows it’s not enough. He covers his prickling eyes with his forearm as he falls back on his bed, exhausted. “Oh, dear, what have I done,” he snivels.

He crossed a line, that’s what he did. He crossed a line for a _fantasy_. A fantasy about a demon to make matters worse… A lanky, tan and gorgeous demon.

That’s no excuse.

In a moment of his own weakness, he broke his rule. The angel sighs pitifully as he curls into himself. The reason doesn’t matter much since he can’t take it back and… perhaps the sinful part of him doesn’t want to. He reaches out to pull the lamp chain, drowning his room in darkness.

One thing is for sure… this secret stays within the walls of his bookshop.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was loosely inspired by this awesome [animatic](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y8VLvDNJgKQ)
> 
> Idk if I’ll regret writing this later so this will probably a stand-alone. However, if enough people like this one or have any suggestions for me I’ll gladly add a continuation :D


End file.
